


My Freaky Darlings

by feistymuffin



Series: Dabbles in Drabbles [3]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, The Addams Family AU, snap snap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 02:18:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16399514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feistymuffin/pseuds/feistymuffin
Summary: A short Addams Family alternate universe.





	My Freaky Darlings

**Author's Note:**

> this is a little drabble i found in my wips and lo and behold, i managed to tidy it up and actually post it. hope y'all enjoy, and as always thank you so much for reading !! 
> 
> additional note: the title is a line from the film The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen

    A thumping crash upstairs makes Dark lift his eyes to the ceiling, watching as the dining room chandelier gently sways from the impact. After the noise there’s utter silence, which is already a horrible sign, but a minute ekes by and the continued quiet is worrying all over again.

    “Kids?” Dark calls, eyeing his book longingly. It’s a new one in the series, and something markedly dreadful was about to happen to the antagonist in the most cruel and grotesque of ways before the jarring, concerning sound. He’s sad to have such a good mood interrupted when it was just getting really interesting.

    “We’re fine, Pops,” Tim calls, but it’s oddly lacking.

    Dark squints and gets to his feet, regrettably setting his book aside and noting the page number before he shuts it. “Sam?” Silence. “Sam?”

    “She’s—uh, having a piss,” Tim tries, and now Dark scowls.

    His foot hits the bottom stair of the wide, ascending staircase in the foyer as he hollers, “Timothy Addams, watch your language. Samantha!”

    Tim comes rushing out of his bedroom, arms thrown wide across the doorway. Dark progresses down the hall and folds his arms when he reaches his son. “You can’t come in! I, uh, I just sanitized! Everything! So clean! You can’t touch any of it!”

    “Tim,” Dark presses, eyeing the pallor that swallows up Tim’s complexion. “Did you behead your sister again?”

    His oldest child only lasts a few seconds before his shoulders sag with defeat. “She insulted my metacarpals collection,” Tim wails, looking offended as he refuses to meet his father’s gaze. “I worked really hard on it! The elephant one took forever for Chica to gnaw clean.”

    “That doesn’t mean you get to decapitate her,” Dark sighs. “Otherwise politics would be very different.” He gives the chubby fourteen-year-old a stern look. “Put her right, this instant. If her body breaks anything…” Dark pauses lengthily, then continues with false venom, “it’s on your head.”

    Tim groans loudly, a purely teenaged sound of dismay and Dark smirks. “Dad, ugh, no bad jokes, please. Spare me. I’ll fix her.”

    “Good.” He ruffles his son’s messy brown hair and gives his shoulder a little shove. “Go on. She’s got a head start on you.”

    “ _Daaad_ ,” Tim squawks, drawn out and disgusted, but Dark just laughs and goes back downstairs to his book.

* * *

Dark turns the timer on the oven to forty-five minutes for the pie and washes his hands at the sink, smiling to himself slightly when the front door opens and shuts. He starts washing dishes and doesn’t bother moving from his spot, and moments later he hears quick, measured footsteps and then Anti is slipping slender hands around his stomach from behind. He presses a conga line of lingering, wet kisses across the back of Dark’s neck, well-exposed in his wide-collared black shirt and Dark hums and leans back into him, letting his husband’s hands wander deliciously over his chest and stomach before wiping his hands on a towel and turning in his arms.

    Anti pulls back, though, and takes Dark’s wrist reverently in his hands and bending at the waist as if to bow. Starting from the tips of his fingers Anti kisses up his hand, along the inside of his wrist and then up past his elbow to trail over his bicep all the way to his neck, where he puts a final kiss and then a light nibble at his husband’s pulse. “Good to see you, _mo agra_ ,” Anti murmurs into his throat. Dark’s reply is a simple hum of blissfulness, and his skin tingles when Anti’s moustache rasps over his skin as he smiles. “So pleased to see me, pet. Has somethin’ upset you?”

    “Your son thought it was a fantastic idea to behead his sister today because she made fun of his bone collection, and she ended up toppling one of the suits of armour while she was headless,” Dark admits in a murmur. “And after that your mother put her chimaera pelts out back to dry and now the entire garden smells of leather and blood.”

    “My love, are those not your two favourite things?” Anti replies, and his grin is wicked when he pulls back.

    Dark’s chuckle is abyssal in its depth, tinted with heat. “Darling, please. The children surely heard you arrive, and are definitely afoot.”

    He’s proven right when soft footfalls sound on the tile floor. “Ugh, gross, Tim, we totally timed it wrong,” comes from the doorway, and Dark lifts his head to see his daughter walking into the kitchen, shadowed by her older brother. She tugs a dark pigtail and fixes neon green eyes on her parents. “You guys couldn’t like, save it for when we’re so not in the area?”

    “My devilish dears, of course I couldn’t,” Anti replies sweetly, and smacks a giant kiss on Dark’s lips before pulling away. “How was your day? Were you good for Dad and Grandmama?”

    Sam and Tim’s faces are so angelic they may as well have put out billboards advertising their misdeeds.

    “Define “good”,” Sam invites innocently, eyes wide and doe-like.

    “How about a lack of decapitation and breaking things?” Anti says, giving his children a probing look. Tim’s expression flickers, but Sam’s is like stone. Her poker face is impenetrable.

    “No idea what you mean, Dad,” Tim hedges, and nervously looks away when Anti lifts a curious brow.

    “Well, I have it from a reliable source that a couple of kids have earned some dishwashing before supper,” Anti says lightly, gesturing next to Dark where the sink lie waiting with large bowls and pots on the counter.

    “Aww,” the children harmonize pathetically. Anti jerks a thumb at the sink and they slump over to it, and Tim stands at the sink while Sam grabs a towel. Morosely the children go through the motions of washing dishes, and Dark looks on in amusement while Anti’s arm slides around his waist.

    “We’re torturing them,” Dark murmurs, smiling. “Look at those long faces. Dreary as ghouls.”

    “Simply inhumane, our treatment of them,” Anti agrees, hand stroking up and down Dark’s ribs. He leans over to bring Dark into a kiss, and when he pushes his tongue past his lips Dark lets out a small noise and threads his hand into Anti’s hair.

    “ _Now_ you’re torturing us,” Sam gripes, turning to look over her shoulder from the sink. She scowls at her fathers and faces the dishes again with a put-off frown when they don’t separate. “Gross.”

    “Darling,” Dark sighs, chin tilting up obligingly when Anti kisses a path down his chin to his throat. “Really, now isn’t the most ideal time—”

    “For showin’ my affection to my black-hearted soulmate?” Anti pouts playfully, and nips his collarbone. “There’s not a second in my day that isn’t available for such things.”

    “I’m vomiting onto the clean dishes!” Tim yells, then groans along with his sister when Anti just puts more smacking kisses all over Dark’s face.

    Anti straightens with a snicker, brushing his fingers over the midnight hair covering Dark’s forehead. “Another time, then,” he promises huskily.

    Dark shivers and watches the light of the candelabras glisten in his husband’s mischievous eyes, smiling secretively as he leans in for another heated kiss, and not even the children’s abhorred wailing dampens their passion.


End file.
